


metamodernity

by itisjosh



Series: fo4 but it's mcyt [7]
Category: Fallout 4, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout (Video Games) Setting, Angst, Bittersweet, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Reveal, Secret Identity, Self-Acceptance, The Institute (Fallout), The Railroad (Fallout), but only at the end and not very much LMAO, synth!wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-24 16:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: Wilbur stares at the screen, his eyes burning, his stomach turning, his chest tightening.He isn't a human.He's a synth.He is a synth.His name is W1-24, and he is a synth who is wanted dead.(or, after breaching the institute and finding a terminal, wilbur finds out that he isn't really who he thought he was)
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: fo4 but it's mcyt [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099001
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	metamodernity

Wilbur stares at Phil, who's standing in front of a terminal, his shoulders slouched, his head ducked down. Wilbur breathes out, looking over his shoulder back at Tommy and Techno, who stand at each others' sides, careful to make sure that no one is going to get past the door they're guarding. Breaching the Institute is always terrifying - there's always a chance that they could be kidnapped and killed, turned into synths; exact copies of themselves minus the memories and personality, but that can always be trained into them. Wilbur's seen it happen from all the times he's broken into this hell before. He's watched his friends go into this place and never come back. That was part of the job description, though. When they joined the Railroad, they all knew that there was a good chance of them dying somewhere along the way. Wilbur wholeheartedly accepted this the moment he found himself at the Railroad's doorstep. He wouldn't mind dying for a cause much, much bigger than himself, though he thinks he'd definitely prefer to stay alive up until the Institute is finally, _finally_ destroyed. 

"Phil?" Wilbur asks, tilting his head to the side as he approaches his sort of dad. He's not entirely sure what Phil is to him, considering how many words there are to describe their relationship. Phil's sort of like a father figure, a mentor, a good friend with a heart of gold. Phil is a lot of things, he's got a lot of words and names tied to him, and Wilbur isn't sure which one is best to pin on him. "What did you find?" He crosses his arms against his chest, glancing back over at his brothers. Even if they're not brothers in blood, they're brothers in name, in the idea of the sense. They're his best friends, Tommy and Techno are. He would die for them without hesitation. He'd die for any of them. "Phil, I'm being serious. What the fuck did you find? You're starting to freak me out." 

"I don't want you to look at this terminal."

Wilbur stands still, feeling like the world's just been ripped out from under him. He feels his heart still, feels his nerves skyrocket. Phil looks up at him, his eyes shining a little, his mouth tightened into a grin frown. "Why don't you.." Wilbur swallows, feeling his throat close up, feeling his mouth go dry. "Why don't you want me to look at that terminal, Phil?" He whispers, furrowing his eyebrows together as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, back and forth. He looks away from Phil, forcing himself to turn his gaze away from the man. "Phil. What's on that terminal that you don't want me to see?" 

"You just need to trust me on this one, Will. I'm serious. Just trust me on this one, okay?" Phil moves away from the terminal, turning his back on it, reaching up and running both of his hands through his hair. Wilbur watches as Techno and Tommy look over at Phil, though he can tell that they're very obviously still paying attention to the doors. "They're making plans to attack the Church soon. They've started to organise themselves, they want to flood it with gen ones, they want to kill all of us. They're not trying to get information," Phil explains, his voice low. "They want to kill us all. They want to get rid of us, they want to exterminate the Railroad. We need to get back and tell Dez about this, or Carington. Either one of them. We have to- Will!" 

Wilbur pushes past the man, stiffening when Phil grabs him by the shoulder. "Let me go," Wilbur turns his head back to look at him. "There's something important on this terminal that you aren't telling me, Phil. I'm not going to sit in the dark because you decided to play a bastard's gamble. No way in hell am I letting the Railroad be put in danger because you think there's something that might hurt _me_ on that terminal. No way, Phil. No way," Wilbur starts to move again, pausing when he sees Techno suddenly in front of him. "You're using your Courser powers to stop me from getting information?" Techno crosses his arms against his chest. 

"We just need to go, Wilbur. I don't know what's on that terminal, but I can trust that Phil's goin' to tell Dez as _soon_ as we get back to the Church, _right?_ " Techno directs an extremely pointed look over at Phil, who nods after a few seconds of just standing there. "Come on. I don't think we're gonna have much longer before they start to find the trail of bodies that lead to here. Wilbur, we need to go. The Railroad could be in danger right now. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't go to them immediately after this." Wilbur reaches down, holding up his radio on his belt. He presses a button, holding it up to his mouth.

"Charmer here. You guys all good downstairs?"

_"We're all good down here, Charmer. Rendezvous with us on the right wing by the teleportation room, okay? We'll be waiting. You have ten minutes, Charmer. Be safe."_

Wilbur smiles. "Will do. Be safe, Chief," he clicks off of the radio, shoving it back in his belt. "Do you really think that I wouldn't bring my radio with me? I know how to do these kinds of missions, Techno, Phil. I'm not stupid," he crosses his arms, staring Techno down. "I have ten minutes, that's what Chief said. You should move out of my way now, to let me see what Phil doesn't want me to. I'm not going to get hurt by something," Wilbur snorts, tossing his head to the side. "It's just going to help better prepare me for whatever is going to happen to the Railroad. I'll even read it aloud for you if you're all so worried about it," he looks back at Phil, who has become incredibly interested in the floor, his eyes half glazed over. Wilbur looks back up at Techno, who nods after a second, stepping out of the way. "Thank you." Wilbur smiles, moving to stand in front of the terminal. 

"Will.."

"Which file is it that you don't want me to see, Doc?" He asks, his tone sharp and biting. It's been months, maybe a year, since Wilbur's called Phil by his Railroad codename. Phil looks up at him, his eyes full of hurt. "I'm being serious. Tell me the file name, Phil. I swear to god, I'll figure it out anyways even if you don't tell me. Just tell me so we can get the fuck out of here, okay?" Wilbur heaves a sigh, annoyance weighing heavy in his tone. He doesn't understand what the fuck is up with Phil, why he just won't tell Wilbur what he found on the terminal. Wilbur isn't going to freak the fuck out by reading Institute plans.

Phil looks away from him, his throat bobbing. "The second one," Phil murmurs. "It's the second one."

"Thank you," Wilbur mutters, opening that specific file. "Synth names, lists, stuff like that.." he trails off, frowning a little. "T8-52, Technoblade," Wilbur glances up at his older brother, his best friend. "Courser, escaped. Case assigned to Y1-27, wanted alive, not dead," he sighs. "These are just logs for escaped synths and Coursers, I don't know why you wanted me to.." Wilbur stops, his voice catching in his throat as he reads over the next name. " _Oh_."

_W1-24, goes by "WILBUR SOOT". Synth, escaped multiple times (39 times). Case assigned to multiple Coursers; F4-29, H6-10, J7-54. Working for the "Railroad" at the current moment. Location is unknown, people worked with are unknown. Believed to have had a memory wipe done by a traitor Institute scientist, believed to have had a face swap. Wanted dead._

_Extra notes: Extremely slippery, difficult to catch. It knows how to get away from regular Coursers. Suggested method of targeting is to take out its community._

_Note from Dr. W: I want W1-24 to be brought back here and killed in front of all of us to be used as an example. I'm sick and tired of hunting that synth down. It's been on the run for far too long, and I'm not going to continue to play these games with it anymore._

Wilbur stares at the screen, his eyes burning, his stomach turning, his chest tightening. His mind screams at him, alarm bells ringing in his head, constantly screaming at him. He feels his eyes start to water, feels tears slide down his cheeks, feels his entire world shatter from underneath of him, thrown out entirely. He feels like he's breaking, he feels like he's dying, he feels like he's already dead. There are voices behind him, but he can't hear them at all, he can't hear anything other than the screaming and howling and shouting and crying in his head. Wilbur, _W1-24_ , collapses to the ground, his knees hitting the cold tile. He stays there, refusing to move, _unable_ to move, _unable_ to do anything other than sit there and listen to his mind ignite and feel his world burn around him. 

He isn't a human.

He's a synth. 

_He is a synth._

His name is W1-24, and he is a synth who is wanted dead. Wilbur, but that's not his name, his name is W1-24, his name isn't Wilbur. _W1-24_ takes in a shaking breath, a sob escaping his lips. All his life, all he remembers is helping synths escape their captors, escape their prisons and chains. He was one of those synths. He _is_ one of those synths. He's a synth. He's not human, he isn't a human like he thought he was, no, not at all. He is a synth, and his entire life is a lie. Whoever wiped his memory and gave him new ones did a good fucking job, considering how he didn't even have a clue, he didn't know, he didn't know at all. 

"Will.." 

"Wilbur!"

"Wilbur, we have to go, we have to- I'm sorry, I didn't..none of us knew, I thought it would be better to..I didn't.." 

The words blur together until they're one jumbled mess, screaming in his ears, making his head spin, forcing his vision to swim. W1-24 turns his head up, looking over at the three men who he thought knew him better than himself. None of them knew. None of them knew, not even Techno. Techno might have known, maybe he knew, maybe they knew each other at some point, maybe they were aware of each other's existence, but he got a face wipe. He got a memory and face wipe, no wonder Techno didn't know. Techno? T8-52. No, no, Techno is his name. He's not T8-52, that's his designation number, that's what he was called in the Institute, but he's not in the Institute anymore. 

He feels arms around him, strong and wide, picking him up, holding him from behind. He doesn't fight it, he doesn't try and resist. What's the point in trying to resist? What's the point in trying to run, trying to fight? His entire life is fucked, all of this is so, so fucked. He's not the man he thought he was, he's not the _human_ he thought he was. But that goes against everything he's been fighting for, doesn't it? He's constantly been fighting for synths, freeing them under the ideals that they're human too, that they're real people too, and that they deserve freedom as much as the rest of them do. That's what he's been fighting for, but does he count? Does he count if he kept being brought here, if he kept taking the coward's way out and chose to forget his entire life? Would he have joined the Railroad if he had known he was, _is_ , a synth? He doesn't know. He doesn't even know his fucking _name_. Is it Wilbur? Is it W1-24? That was his first name, W1-24 was the first thing he was called, surely. Wilbur is just a façade, a nickname, something to mask his history. 

_"Wilbur"_ is prettier than a designation code as a name. He feels tears trail down his face, he feels his heart stop beating in his chest. He saves synths, he gives them new lives, he fights for them, he tries to get them to safety, to get them out of the Institute and give them chances at life instead of being used as goddamn lab rats. All of his life, all of his life after his memory was wiped, he's been saving synths, people just like him. But back then, he didn't know it. Back then, he thought he was a human. An hour ago, he thought he was human. Synths are people, they have free thought, they think just like the rest of them, they've got emotions and ideas and morals and wants and everything, just like a regular person would. They are people, and yet they still aren't _human_ , and that's just because of what makes them up on the inside. Wires instead of veins, synthetic hearts and organs rather than real ones. 

But are they really machines? Are they just machines? Is that right? He doesn't know. He doesn't know at all. He doesn't know anything, nothing is really real, nothing matters that much anymore, not right now, at least. His whole life has been broken and bent, his entire world has been grabbed and ripped out right from under him. He feels the earth spin underneath of him, and the confining, white walls of the Institute are gone within the same second. He's back at the Church. 

"I shouldn't be here," he whispers. "I can't be here, I can't, I can't. You're risking everything, you can't do this, you can't keep me here. I need to go- I have to..I can't do this, I have to get another memory wipe, another face change," he looks up, his eyes wide and panicked. "You can't keep me here. I'm a risk, I'm a hazard. I know now, I _know_ now, they'll know that I know if we fight, they'll see me, they'll know that I..that I- that I'm not, that..that I'm..that.." 

"You're not a risk, Will. You're not a risk, not at all. Even if you were," he, _Wilbur_ , looks up at Phil, watching as the man crouches down in front of him. "We wouldn't let you run. You're safer here with us than anywhere else," Phil murmurs, his voice gentle and soft. "Wilbur. You're not any different to us, to me, to _yourself_. You're the same person, you're the same man. You're still Wilbur Soot. You're not anyone different. You are the same person you were ten minutes ago."

Wilbur nods, breathing out, feeling the tears slowly stop falling as fast as they previously had been. He falls forwards, resting his head against Phil's chest, letting out a sob. "I'm not the same," he sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm not, not after this. I'm still..I'm a synth, Phil. I'm not who I thought I was. I'm not who _you_ thought I was. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.."

"For what?" That's Tommy's voice, that's his little brother's voice. "Wilbur, you know that we save synths for a living, right? _You_ save synths for a living. Why would we ever think of you differently? Why would you be someone different to us?" He asks, and Wilbur feels a hand on his shoulder. "You're still Wilbur, aren't you? That's your name, isn't it? You're still the fucking idiot who likes to shove me down staircases, you're still the same man who taught me how to use a gun properly. You're the same person you always have been, Wilbur. This changes nothing. It doesn't make you weird or anything, it's not like any of us _care_. You're still Wilbur to me. You're just Wilbur. You're just Wilbur, that's all there is. You're just Wilbur." 

_You're just Wilbur_. 

Wilbur swears to god that he feels his heart shatter in his chest in the best possible way as those words burrow into his mind. He breathes out, swallowing back his tears, sitting back, moving away from Phil. He looks up at the man, staring up at his eyes. They're gentle, soft. No sight of judgement in them, nothing but acceptance and kindness and love. He really is the same, Wilbur really isn't any different. He's just not exactly who he thought he was, and that's..

That's okay. He'll figure it out, he can figure all of this out with his friends, with his family. He can figure all of it out so long as he has Phil and Techno and Tommy. So long as he has those three in his life, he'll be able to do anything. Wilbur nods, reaching up to wipe away the tears from his face, feeling an arm wrap around him. Techno sits to his left, pulling him a little closer to him. Wilbur laughs, ducking his head as Tommy continues to grip his shoulders. Phil reaches out, gently ruffling his hair. Wilbur snorts, sniffling as he reaches up to wipe away a few more tears, unable to keep a smile off of his face. "Thank you," he murmurs, feeling like he's going to cry all over again, but not because he's sad or angry, not because he's scared. Just because he's happy, he's happy and it's all because of the three people sat around him right now. "Thank you."

"No need to thank any of us," Techno murmurs, reaching up from behind him to pat his head. Wilbur lets out another watery laugh, sending a side glance over to his sort of older brother, to one of his best friends. "We're your..we're." he breathes out, tilting his head back. "We're friends. We're more than that," Techno pauses, glancing away. "We're family. All of us, we're all family. Of course we're goin' to be here for you. I know how hard it can be to learn things about yourself that you never knew. I know how hard it is to find out that you're not really the person who you thought you were," Techno smiles at him, softly. "Later on, when this feels a little more real, I'll talk to you in private, okay?" 

"Why?" Wilbur asks, furrowing his eyebrows for a second. The warmth of Techno calling him _family_ settles in his chest, and he can't wipe the smile off of his face. "Did we..know each other?" He raises an eyebrow, the words sounding wrong on his tongue. _He_ didn't know Techno from before they got him out of the Institute, no, that was W1-24. Although they're technically the same person, that doesn't mean anything. They led different lives, they were different people. He's Wilbur now. He isn't W1-24, and he'll never be W1-24, not ever again. "Techno?"

"We did," Techno confirms. "You were really, really slippery."

Wilbur laughs, ducking his head again, beaming at him when he looks back up. "Thirty-nine times, huh?" Techno smiles back at him, his eyes just a little sad, but Wilbur isn't entirely sure why. "Why didn't I reach forty?"

"I made sure that you didn't," Techno smiles. "I didn't let you come back." Wilbur frowns. 

"Come back? Why would I.."

"We'll talk about it later. Just.." Techno looks away. "You're still family, Wilbur. No matter your past, no matter anythin', you're still family. No matter what happens, you'll always be family to me and to Phil and to Tommy."

"Right," Tommy agrees, nudging him with his leg. "We're like brothers, you know." Wilbur flashes him a tired grin, feeling exhausted.

"Stop. I _will_ cry," he teases, tiredly closing his eyes, feeling his shoulders relax. He's exhausted. He thinks that crying and having a mild panic attack in the middle of an _extremely dangerous_ facility might be the reasons for his exhaustion, but he isn't all that sure. Probably. "I'm..very tired," Wilbur laughs, though he doesn't make any effort to get up. "One of you should pick me up and take me to a bed." He feels the world start to spin underneath of him, but it stops a second later.

"Don't let that motherfucker convince you to move," Phil laughs. "We'll just make a pile here, mate. You were the one who decided to pass out on Techno's shoulder." Wilbur sighs, wondering just how mad Phil would be if he were to punch him in the face. Of course, Wilbur knows that he'd never do that. Even if he wanted to, he doesn't think he'd be able to. Wilbur doesn't think that he could ever hurt his family, even if he really, really wanted to. He would rather die before he hurt any of his family. 

"Fine. Sleep pile." Wilbur agrees, yawning as he shifts a little closer to his sort of older brother, feeling his sort of younger brother sprawl out across both of their laps. Wilbur's only certain of his judging by the way that Techno heaves a sigh, as well as the fact that he feels Tommy flick him on the nose a second later, just like the little bastard child that he really is. Wilbur keeps his eyes shut, comfortably sat down, resting against Techno's shoulder. 

And as Wilbur starts to drift off, he realises that human or synth, his family will always, always love him, and that's the only thing that matters to him.


End file.
